


The one where Gerard is a butterfly

by greedy_dancer



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.... Gerard is a butterfly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Gerard is a butterfly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turlough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turlough/gifts).



> For Turlough and Rosalui who said they wanted to read it. Sorry it's not actually hilarious! Thanks to Brooklinegirl for the beta.

Gerard is ravenous. He doesn’t usually have breakfast, but today after he gulps down his venti caramel latte, he also drains Mikey’s cup, ignoring his brother’s protests. Then he goes over to Frank, who’s talking on his phone, gesturing with a donut in his other hand.

“Gonna eat that?” Gerard mumbles, grabbing the donut immediately and swallowing it in two bites.

“Hey!” Frank protests, but Gerard’s moved on already. It’s like his body doesn’t even register the food. He shuffles through the kitchen area, eats all the poptarts in the cabinet, and all the hummus from the fridge, and it’s still not enough.

His pants are starting to feel tight, though, so he sheds them as he looks for more sustenance. While he’s at it, he removes his shirt, too, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor behind him. The A/C makes all the hair on his body stand up. His skin feels prickly when he draws a hand across it.

After soundcheck, Gerard eats most of the food from the rider that day, even the fruit. For some reason green things look particularly good to him right now. He brings a plate of lettuce to the side of the stage and munches on a couple of leaves during the break between songs. The guys look at him like he’s gone insane.

“M’hungry,” he mutters, shrugging. His black clothes feel restrictive again. He can’t have outgrown them in one day, right?

Finally, they’re back on the bus, and he can just give into the urge.

“Jesus! Mikey, is there a reason your brother’s naked on the couch, eating cookies?” Ray yells when he steps into the lounge area. Gerard ignores him and keeps munching happily.

Finally, he drags himself to his bunk, probably leaving a trail of crumbs and food wrappers behind him. The next day is off, which he’s feeling extremely satisfied about as he rolls himself into his sheets and blankets until he’s safely enclosed in the confined space of his bunk, the outside world shut out completely.

*

There are voices outside of Gerard’s cocoon, but he ignores them. He’s fed and warm and safe. He wants to sleep forever.

*

It’s a bit of a struggle for Gerard to break out of the shell of bedding and bits of paper he's apparently managed to entangle himself in. He takes a tentative step out of his bunk. No one’s up yet, the bus quiet, but he’s not tired anymore. He feels like he slept for days.

He walks into the lounge on trembling legs, shaking his limbs to get rid of the pins and needles, and rolling his neck as he goes. There’s a ray of sunlight falling from the window, reaching the couch at a slanted angle, and Gerard sits right in it, relishing the way it heats his skin. He feels brand new, like he was reborn overnight, and he stretches in the warm light, his hands fluttering with the dust motes dancing in the air.

Mikey is the first to wake, and he gasps when he sees Gerard.

“Your hair!” he exclaims, and then reaches out to touch it. Gerard ducks his head quickly, escaping the touch and perching on the counter. “Dude, it’s so bright! Did you dye it during the night?” Mikey asks.

Gerard catches a strand between his fingers, stroking it lightly. It’s bright red. Gerard likes it.

That day, on stage, he wears red makeup, white jeans, a blue and yellow shirt.

“I want to suck the dew off of you,” he tells the crowd, and: “Don’t you feel like you could fly?”

And so, he does.

*

The End.


End file.
